


That Inquisitor, Violent Again

by PinkAfroPuffs



Series: The Scorching Inquisitor (Side B) [3]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Dalish Issues, Idiots in Love, M/M, Mage Inquisitor (Dragon Age), Mention Of Dragons, ill die before i stop writing about how elves are treated in this series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-09
Updated: 2019-10-09
Packaged: 2020-11-28 14:36:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 994
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20968187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PinkAfroPuffs/pseuds/PinkAfroPuffs
Summary: This is not the first time his violence has been warranted. Then again, can one really say it never is?





	That Inquisitor, Violent Again

The Inquisitor was arguing with someone again.

The Iron Bull thought it was fun to watch, actually, when he had time to. The man was always somewhat unpredictable when he spoke on behalf of the Inquisition. Though he didn’t think he could do whatever he wanted, Mamoru’s temper often popped up in the midst of matters that needed his calm demeanor instead of his bubbling distrust of “shemlen”, as he called them. It was his greatest weakness, but his greatest strength. People knew better than to try walking over the Scorching Inquisitor, even if he was an elf.

This guy, though. The merchant talking to him. He seemed like he didn’t know who he was talking to- or didn’t care. There was no formality in his greeting, or his manner of speaking, and from what Bull knew from eavesdropping a little ways away, was that he’d asked- more than once- for Mamoru’s superior. Which he didn’t have.

As he’d just gotten in from some training, the Inquisitor was sparsely dressed and slightly drenched in sweat, his coat wrapped around his waist as his undershirt, long-sleeved but thin and white, outlined the strong but taut muscles of his arms as he gestured, holding his staff as he spoke. 

“Ser, I’m tellin’ you. We can go elsewhere and get more than you’re offerin’ for less. It’s fine to not compromise for whatever reason, but if you want to be part of the Inquisition, you have to accept lowerin’ them, especially because we will pay you for being with us,  _ besides _ the profits you get fer your goods,” Mamoru reasoned, and Bull thought that it was a pretty sweet deal for any merchant who wanted in on the Inquisition. 

“Listen, elf,” he could see the vein in Mamoru’s neck pulsing just a little as the merchant used his race as a form of insult, “either you take what I’ve got at the price I have, or I go.”

“I’m sayin’ we’re  _ willing _ to give you more than you’re asking, but you have to  _ lower _ your prices for Inquisition forces,” Mamoru asserted. “We’re in the business of stabilizing the commonwealth of Thedas. We’ve enough gold to compensate you for your losses.” He gestured quite generally, too. “And you can go. I’m not keepin’ you here. On behalf of the Inquisition, I thank you for comin’.”

These were all very reasonable, and Bull nodded a little to himself, imperceptibly. He knew, though, for a guy as tightly coiled and prejudiced as this merchant, nothing would be fine with him until someone of lesser rank than the elven Inquisitor intervened. Ambassador Josephine came up beside him then, holding her clipboard and quill like she’d come out to see what the commotion was about herself.

“He’s not all that good at diplomacy, is he?” Bull joked, arms across his chest. “I’d bet ten sovereigns he hits the guy before he leaves.”

Josephine sort of smiled as she watched the argument, though her eyes were tightly coiled with some worry. “He can be when he wants to.” She was clearly unsure if this was one of those times.

It was here that Bull heard the utterance of “bloody knife ear”, and before he could even take note of it to react, the Inquisitor had taken his staff and cracked the merchant across the head with it, like a bat.

“Guess he doesn’t want to be,” he mused, and Josephine hurried over to do damage control, shouting ‘Inquisitor!!!!!’ after him when he squatted beside the merchant. 

“This bloody knife ear,” Mamoru started, staff clenched tightly in his right hand, blood dripping from the top of his staff, “is the leader of this Inquisition. I could have you blacklisted fer insultin’ me in my own base, in front of my soldiers. Next time you speak to me, you’d better have found some respect in that empty head of yours, or you’ll find yourself hung over the courtyard as a warning.” With a quick once-over, he said, “Dinner’s at six, if you want some. But if you aren’t joinin’ the Inquisition, you best leave tomorrow mornin’, since it’s a long way down the mountain. No hard feelings.”

When he noticed Josephine running towards him, he said, “Oh, Ambassador. Fetch the healer, would you? This lad’s got a minor headache he needs tendin’ to.” Then he stalked off, staff resting on his shoulder.

In the middle of Josephine’s apologies, Iron Bull shook his head. “Need to work on your temper, boss,” he said offhandedly as Mamoru jogged past him.

“Maybe. Maybe these fuckin’ shemlen’ll get a life before comin’ here to mess with me at all,” he countered mildly. 

He chuckled, despite himself. There was no arguing with him when he was like this, and the head blow had been completely justified. “Good point.”

“I should ask if there’s anythin’ we need to take care of nearby. I’m real fired up now.” He said aloud, though he muttered, “‘Knife ear’. Fuckin’ shem,” as he passed.

“I’m ready to go if you do,” he reminded him, and as though remembering something, Mamoru turned to look at him, pressed his hands to either of his cheeks, and kissed him hard on the mouth. 

“I’ll call you in an hour, Bull,” he told him, “and we might fight a dragon again this time.” He winked, though he sort of skipped away this time. 

He could never get used to those kisses. They were just as fierce as the Inquisitor himself, and just as warm. Might not be the best idea to get used to them, either. It would compromise The Iron Bull a lot, and he couldn't have that. 

“...sure, boss,” he answered easily, though another name pulled at his tongue, burned in his throat. He forced it down. It would be silly to get all tangled up in it, but he let out a rousing, “Aw  _ yeah!”  _ anyway. It was only half because of the potential dragon fight.

**Author's Note:**

> i love my son and think he should be able to hit as many shems as he wants


End file.
